


My adoration for you doesn't change my intent

by Taste_of_Suburbia



Category: Spartacus: Blood and Sand
Genre: Bottom!Lucretia, Drama, F/F, F/M, Friendship, Obsessive Lucretia, Possessive Lucretia, Protective Lucretia, Romance, Theatre of Tragedy, Twirling, embracing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-02
Updated: 2012-10-02
Packaged: 2017-11-15 11:22:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/526747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taste_of_Suburbia/pseuds/Taste_of_Suburbia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'Her heart swells with such foreign need each time she catches glimpse of Ilithyia.' Near to bursting, she realizes she can hold back no longer. Though mind will forever be set on endgame, even when deep within throes of pleasure.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My adoration for you doesn't change my intent

**Author's Note:**

> Set during the Spartacus: Blood and Sand episode 'Whore'. Even though the content in this is not explicit, I am still rating this Mature because I view this series as a mature series and also because I suck at ratings.  
> I am completely and 100% obsessed with Spartacus. The actors and characters, arena scenes, violence, the emotions and blood and rage and vengeance and a swirling disarray of emotions still leaves me breathless as I'm writing this. This show is so well made and I just had to write something. This is my first trip into this fandom and I can only hope this is enjoyed by someone. Another one more centered around the infectious Gaia is being written as this is read.  
> Soundtrack: Theatre of Tragedy's 'Silence'

_~In the flicker light we’re interlaced and face to face  
Someone is blurring now, abiding time as I avow  
And there’s a soft surrender~_

Her heart swells with such foreign need each time she catches glimpse of Ilithyia. The first moment unprepared eyes laid upon her, Lucretia realized truly how much of a vision she was, of how the gods chose to bless her with boundless beauty and charm. A nose that beautifully accented strong, unforgettable features often caused her eyes to linger on such a face for longer than deemed proper.

Gaia was the last woman Lucretia had loved, one her heart sought out to keep tightly locked within for much of her early years and even now. Even now that her illusion is gone and only imprint on this house remains. She succeeded in her vengeance, the most appreciated deed brought about by honorable husband. She could never desire anyone the way she desired him, he knew it, which was why he so often indulged her with glorious compliments far grander than even a queen herself would receive and gestures, even small in intent, that would leave her breathless and aching with barely held back pleasure. 

She grew wet below her cool robes. Head reeling with intent Lucretia knew, tongue flicking out to moisten already moistened lips. Ilithyia would, at first, never look upon her in this manner, but as important friendship grew so did her love, and as constant companion Ilithyia’s gaze lingered longer and in ways that screamed of a soft and decadent permanence. 

Lucretia could not seem to be granted enough of Ilithyia’s presence, and she prayed the gods, blissfully alone at night before her husband would grant her with much-loved presence and appearance, that they would send her to Batiatus’ wife more often. But things were tricky in these times, she needed things from her that she must keep secretive, away from prying eyes and hands. 

Still, Lucretia could look. And look she did. 

At night, Ilithyia would twirl around her delicately, temptation literally buzzing in enclosed breasts. Lucretia would feel heat crawl up her spine, take hold of her with clawed hands, drag her down into knowledge and greater pleasures, the craving to seek them. Her fingers brushed along the woman’s arm, revealing nothing more than a mere playfulness her heart silently begged Ilithyia to reciprocate. And one night, when both their husbands were away with pressing business they claimed they need not burden fragile wives with, Ilithyia twirled Lucretia’s most favored vivid red hair around her fingers. 

She drew her near and Ilithyia pressed herself tight against the warm, wanting body of most gracious host. Lucretia closed her eyes, downed her glass of wine and kissed Ilithyia long and hard. When both parted for much needed breath, the vision completely crowding into her vision spoke. 

“We should have taken part in this particular form of pleasure long ago.”

Lucretia smiled, “Indeed. If I did not assume preoccupation was on neglectful husband then I would have struck sooner.”

Ilithyia pulled away and started to twirl around her once more. She was beyond wanting now, both of them seemed to be, ready to take what was desired and indulge in it greedily and with no greater freedom. Her home was quiet, heart beating so loudly within tight with nervous anticipation chest. She could hold back no longer. 

The woman seemed to know this and lent a little smile that spoke to Lucretia of yet more charms needed to be discovered in quiet, lustful moments. “Yet I have seen the way you often gaze upon me, and it struck a profound desire within me as well. More than any ludus’ gladiator could,” she added and Lucretia’s heart swelled with long forbidden joy for a woman, a beautiful woman she could hold fiercely in her arms and protect within the walls of this house. Because no one could destroy them here, no one could tear these walls down so easily. 

They crashed together messily almost simultaneously, dragging each other towards the nearest bedroom. Ilithyia felt sure and passionate in Lucretia’s arms. A woman who knew what she wanted and would stop at nothing to gain it. Lucretia could... connect. Heart and head reeling wildly within trembling, most thrilled form, all of her could connect. 

Loving Ilithyia is nothing like loving Gaia had been. For one thing, she had become Gaia after her tragic end. The thought or desire hadn’t even crossed grief-stricken mind, it had just happened. The change of hair color, the confident footsteps, the awareness that nothing, no one would ever remain in her way again. Vengeance, she knew back then, would be hers. She had been able to feel it in her grasp, naked and pure as a child free of the womb. Ilithyia felt much different underneath her fingertips, her facial expressions bolder, giving her away easily, movements stronger as she laughed in joy. 

The night was dark but candles flickered faintly around them, casting their faces in beautiful shadows but really all hearts craved was touch, feel of skin up above and down below, softness of hair and surety of the moment they were locked in, the lush bed rubbing against Lucretia’s back as Ilithyia’s fingers sent her body shaking with undiscovered pleasures. As carefully, perfectly etched face filled Lucretia’s entire vision. Temptations she longed to explore with the goddess, poking and prodding and caressing and her tongue... oh gods, _her tongue!_

She had moaned as their lips met once more, as they continued to meet and embrace for the remainder of the night, fingers touching, entwining, seeking out hidden rarities. 

Barely anytime later and she holds the woman within her arms again, now weakened but with no less need held within her. Ilithyia is a murderer, another step Lucretia can accept in its similarity to her own self. She witnessed the act, rage taking hold of her so fiercely as her hands would not stop satisfying their own needs. So much damage, so much blood had already been spilled in her house and now this... now Ilithyia, the privileged, gorgeous, spoiled brat was becoming her. 

This is where she weaves her way in. Blackmail is such a dirty word only uttered by shameless tongues. She is smarter than that, stronger, far more determined than many men with cocks larger than her dainty head. Lucretia has and always will be a fighter, a survivor, whether it be fighting for a husband more adored by her than the sun, than the gods themselves, or struggling for payback for her much beloved Gaia. Now she must fight to keep Ilithyia under this roof, under her care and will, hers to command, to share her bed with on lonely nights when men do not know what very being craves, merely have endless needs themselves for power plays, clanging swords in glorious battle and drawing warm, pulsing blood. 

She is Lucretia’s now, if she makes a move to leave she will bring this very truth up, let it bubble to surface unrelentingly. She swells inside with determination and joy as the illustrious Ilithyia looks up into her eyes with so much love and so much trust. And she will give it. 

She will give it for Quintus. To elevate this house. In order to wipe Ilithyia’s trademark smirk off her spoiled, polished face and swallow that mouth so often overtaken by a pout with her own, swallow it whole and make it her own. She smiles and draws her nearer, she will never suspect. Not yet anyway. 

_I love you I crave you I need you. I will break you underneath skilled fingers adoring you._

_Ilithyia... you are mine. Don’t you see that now? You are my own. And I will keep you locked up so very very tight._

**FIN**


End file.
